Page 43 of Advanced Chemistry

“Do vending machines catch fire often?” Chase asked.

“It’s what we call a customer emergency.” I knocked his knee with mine. “The good thing about supplying vending machines to offices is that they’re only used during work hours, so we don’t really have to worry about a machine breaking down at three in the morning.”

“That’s not completely true. We have some machines at gyms and restaurants that are open late,” Sebastian said. He put away his phone, finally off the clock.

“It’s incredible that you’ve managed to start what seems to be a successful business right out of high school. Do you ever think about going to college, though? Just in case,” Chase said.

“Just in case what? If Beverage Solutions goes under, then we’ll start something else. College isn’t for everyone. The only thing my older friends learned in college was how to do a keg stand and how to sneak out of someone’s bed unnoticed.”

“I learned neither of those things at college,” Chase said. He turned to Sebastian. “What about you?”

Sebastian hesitated a moment, the uncertainty wafting off him threw me for a bit.

“You know, I like what we’re building here with Beverage Solutions.”

We’d talked about Sebastian possibly returning to school in the future. It was always a maybe just in case things went south with BS. The thought of Seb going off to college made me uncomfortable, like it would be a permanent break in our friendship. We’d promise to stay friends, but after a few months of hanging around intelligent college students, would Sebastian forget about me? It wasn’t something I wanted to think about while we were en route to a potential threesome.

Fortunately, the Uber pulled up to our apartment building just in time.College talk over. Let’s talk about getting naked instead.

I nearly bolted up the stairs to our place, taking the steps two at a time. Was I being a little too excited? Probably. But I badly wanted to relive the magic of last weekend and forget about the fizzy La Croix feelings bubbling inside me.

I had a taste, and I wanted more. Well, actually, Chase was the one who had the taste.Unhhhh so hot.

Our apartment was on the top floor. I waited at the door for Sebastian and Chase to catch up.

“Took you geezers long enough,” I said as I held the door open for them.

* * *

We brokeopen our hard seltzers, and in another favorable twist of the evening, we talked a little bit more. It was always a relief to enjoy the company of the person (or persons) you were fucking.

We tumbled into conversation, with Chase asking us more about Beverage Solutions and us asking him for gossip on South Rock High’s sterling faculty. Was the teacher’s lounge the place to be? (“No. It’s sadly eventful.”) Did Principal Aguilar really start dating a parent of one of his students? (“Correct. They grow cacti and apple trees together.”) Does Mr. Z believe in conspiracy theories? (“Unfortunately, yes.”)

I found that the best kind of flirting was actually good conversation. We talked and talked until I checked my phone and it was past ten. Time flew.

“Chase, you have to get up early for school, don’t you?” Sebastian asked, hardwired to be a party pooper.

“I don’t need much sleep. I’m at my best with six hours.”

I nodded, impressed. I was always that guy who needed his sleep and could never get enough. Forcing high schoolers to start the school day at seven-thirty was cruel and unusual punishment.

“I could do another round,” Chase said.

“Sweet.” I slid into the kitchenRisky Business-style. I pulled three more hard seltzers from the fridge. I looked up and saw my reflection in the window. I had on a sloppy, contented grin. Whatever else happened tonight, I was having an awesome time chilling with these guys. I felt a kind of ease that usually evaded me on dates. I wasn’t trying to sell myself. I was just being me.

“Here we go. El seltzers de los hard.” That was the last remaining bit of Spanish I remembered from Mr. Shablanski’s class. Chase and Sebastian had moved to the cabinet against the wall where Chase was admiring our wrestling trophies.

“It’s nice you kept your trophies and that you display them,” Chase said.

“It’s nice…or a little corny?” Sebastian said, echoing complaints he’d said before. “Most athletes we know just put their high school trophies in a box to be rediscovered when their parents sell their childhood home in the future. Why must you display them, Anton?”

I looked on at my trophies with pride. “Because they’re reminders of what I can accomplish with hard work and discipline. When I’m having a rough day with BS, I remember to not give up and that I’m more powerful than a bad day.”

“That’s kind of beautiful,” Sebastian said.

“I have my moments.”

“Is wrestling difficult?” Chase asked, a burp slipping past his lips. He seemed the slightest bit tipsy, the fun effects of alcohol taking over. “Isn’t it merely knocking someone to the ground? Is there skill involved?”

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